


Do You Believe in Life After Death?

by shiverfawkes



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2-d is a small bean, Comfort, Death, Drunk Driving, Grieving, M/M, car crash, murdoc isnt such an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-01-16 12:12:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiverfawkes/pseuds/shiverfawkes
Summary: With a crash, a blur of blood and pain, and a whisper of something inaudible mixed in, everything faded to black





	1. Chapter 1

Murdoc Niccals was two years older than Stuart Pot. He was however the same age as Stuart's brother, Victor Pot. This meant that the younger boy was wrapped up in their shenanigans from the day the older two met. 

No matter how battered and bruised Stuart got, the best days of his life were spent mucking around with his brother and his brother's best friend, even if they did tend to leave him behind.

And that was how it went, until Stuart had to study his GCSE's while Victor was is Sixth form and Murdoc bunked off. And when the time came at the weekends to muck about, he had to stay inside while the older two went out, picking up chicks and having a laugh, leaving him behind as the lame kid brother. The odd one with perpetual scrapes from his own clumsiness, and bright blue hair as a cause of that too.

"Hey Stu'! Murdoc's here, come talk to 'im while I get my shoes on!" Victor called upstairs to his younger brother, who reluctantly got up from his desk and trailed himself down the stairs.

Murdoc was the cool kid of the group, the one parents didn't want their kids hanging out with, but Stuart's parents weren't around enough to care, and though Murdoc was rough and rowdy, he was the younger boy's only friend that wasn't related to him. 

He had an olive skin complexion, so much so that his flesh literally appeared green, hair that swooped just above his eyebrows, pointed ears with piercings and was never seen without his inverted cross necklace, that he seemed to wear around like his most valued possession.

A smile of uneven teeth came across his face as the blue haired boy entered the dining room. "Alright, Stu-Pot?" He asked, and Stuart nodded, grabbing whatever was closest in the fridge and pouring himself a glass of it.

"Revision's givin' me a hard time but I could be worse." He replied, shrugging. "Yourself?" 

Murdoc groaned. " _School_ , my god, haven't you quit yet?" He asked, avoiding Stuart's question. It was no secret Murdoc hated rules, he hated being controlled or ordered around, he hated people who had authority over him. In which case, school was a living nightmare for him and he was forever in detention due to backchat and fights. One of which fucked up his nose for god knows how long.

"Mum says I'm not allowed." He replied taking a sip. "What's the plan for tonight?" 

The older boy grinned at the question and leaned back in his chair smugly. "I got a new car, me and Vick are gonna drive it round town, see if we can get any birds who might like a ride." He wiggled his eyebrows and Stuart laughed, but felt a little jealousy in his stomach.

"You two are gross."

"Hey!" Victor's voice came from behind. "You're free to come along, isn't he Mudz?" He gestured to Murdoc, using the nickname he'd made up as a kid, and the dark haired boy nodded.

"Well I've got revision 'aven't I?" Stuart said, letting out a frustrated huff of air and crossing his arms.

"Oh come on! You might be a little thick but nobody needs _that_ much revision. Now get your shoes on, grab a coat and come on!" Murdoc edged him on and eventually he gave in, rolling his eye sand running up the stairs, pulling on a pair of battered converse and grabbing a jacket for later on.

To his surprise the two weren't joking and he was allowed to sit in the back, and listen to the radio and the occasional conversation that popped up in the midst of the journey.  

"So Stu' any girlfriends yet?" Victor asked, out of the blue, making him go bright red at the thought. He wasn't very into girls, they seemed too annoying and too much work, all for the occasional kiss when they were in a good mood which was basically never.

"Sod off Vick." he muttered and his brother smirked, looking over at Murdoc who had an amused smile on his face.

"What happened to that Asian bird you were mucking around with?" He asked, and Stuart became immediately more uncomfortable as he knew who he was talking about.

Noodle was a girl in his class, who didn't speak much English and had a seemingly unpronounceable name, so Stuart gave her the name noodle and it stuck. He'd helped her with an English project one day after school and as a message of gratitude she'd kissed him on the cheek. She'd seen it in an American film apparently. Unfortunately, Victor had witnessed this event and wouldn't let his little brother live it down.

"There was no mucking! I helped her with a homework!" He protested, allowing his brother to wind him up. "The only bird I've been with is Paula Cracker!" And the moment the words left his mouth he regretted them as both Murdoc and Victor looked confused and surprised.

"The Year Nine Slag? Stu' you didn't-"

"No! We didn't do much, I think she kissed me once but that was it!" Stuart replied not believing for a second that he could go any redder in the face. He regretted everything about that relationship, if you could even call it one. He didn't know about her reputation when she approached him, he was just surprised that this Year Nine girl was calling him cute and wanted him to date her. 

"Man I remember my fling with Paula Cracker, dirty old bag she was too." Murdoc spoke solemnly. "Alright, I think that's enough of annoying Stu, don't you Vick?" 

"Yeah, we're here anyway." Victor replied, as Murdoc pulled into a parking space and pulled the handbrake. "You comin' Stu?" he asked and Stuart nodded, still unaware of where they were but followed the older two around the back of a building and through a door.

He was hit with loud music and the smell of alcohol and tobacco, and his nose crinkled due to the unpleasant mixture of the two. Murdoc and Victor sat at a table in the back corner and a girl with her tits on blatant display set them down a tray with three shot glasses and a pack of cigarettes. Murdoc winked at her as she walked away and swiped the packet off the table.

Victor down his shot, grimacing, before handing one to Stuart who stared at it unsure. "I'm underage Vick, won't the peelers be after me?" He asked, and victor laughed.

"There's no harm in it, its just one drink." he reasoned and with that Stuart put the glass to his lips, throwing his head back and letting the liquid flow down his throat, burning it as it went. He grimaced and coughed for a minute, while Murdoc and Vick cackled. 

"I thought you said we was driving around town." He asked Murdoc, before putting the cigarette between his lips and lighting it, something a bit more his speed. Murdoc shrugged as he let out a breath of his own smoke and pocketed the packet.

"Oi, Mudz, you haven't touched your shot, get it in ya you green bugger!" Vick said, elbowing Murdoc in the ribs.

"I'm driving remember?" He said, grumpily. 

"It wont do no harm!" Victor urged, and Murdoc eventually gave in after enough annoyance, downing the shot without a wince

The night went on like that, Victor got drunk, while Stuart stuck to tobacco, and Murdoc, although he disagreed profusely had five shots in him by the nights end. Victor stumbled shitfaced back to the car, and Murdoc clambered in looking unphased for the amount of alcohol in his system. 

Stuart had a queasiness in his stomach as the engine started. He'd seen scenes like this in adverts about drunk driving, but surely Murdoc wasn't _actually_ drunk

However that was just a nice thought.

With a crash, a blur of blood, pain and a whisper of something inaudible mixed in, everything faded to back


	2. Chapter 2

Stuart's eyes opened and with a groan he managed to push himself up, to look around. This wasn't his bedroom, it was far to bright and far too clean to be his bedroom. On top of that, his head hurt more than life itself and everything was out of focus. 

"Rise and shine, face-ache." A gruff voice sounded from beside him, _Murdoc._ "Took you long enough." 

"Why's everythin' blurry? And where am I?" Stuart asked, rubbing his eyes to see if it would help, but letting out a cry of pain when any pressure applied stung like hell. What the fuck had happened? He was surely doing revision last night, what else _does_ he do? 

Even trying to think, his head hurt far too much to continue trying to remember.

"Don't remember anything do you?" Murdoc replied grimly. "Doctor said you might have amnesia. Should clear up though..." His voice was deeper, less varied and more gravelly. Unamused.

"What do you mean doctor!?" Something about his mouth felt different and he noticed missing teeth in the front. "What happened?" He asked, pursuing an answer once again and Murdoc sighed.

"Doc said its best if you remember on your own. There's clothes in the backpack, couple quid for the bus home, your meds and a door key. I'll see ya around, Two Dents." He got up and left after that, back hunched over, hands hidden in his jeans pockets. 

Two Dents? What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean? 

And what was going on? 

He got out of bed, shakily, throwing on a pair of worn out jeans and a baseball t-shirt, pulling on his battered converse and slinging the backpack over his shoulder. He wasn't sure if he should just walk out of the hospital like that but he did anyway, catching the bus home. 

The driver gave him an odd stare and a few kids pointed at him as he got off at the stop around the corner from his house. 

As usual, nobody was home, Victor was probably out with Murdoc and Mum and Dad were god knows where. So he walked up to his room, throwing the keys on his desk and flopping into bed, staring at the ceiling, noticing his vision start to clear up slightly.

Wait. Victor couldn't be out with Murdoc, Murdoc was just with him in the hospital. So where the fuck was Victor?

Letting out a sigh, Stuart rolled over onto his front, face-planting into the pillow. He was probably just out with some random bird. 

Clearing the thoughts from his mind he, fell out of consciousness. 

_He was in Murdoc's car, leaning forward in the middle seat, the belt discarded behind him as he laughed at whatever Victor had just come out with. And then everything changed in a moment._

_Flashing headlights, the beep of a horn cut all the laughter off. Murdoc cried out trying to swerve but it didn't work._

_A loud crash sounded in his ears, until all there was, was ringing and before he could register what happened, he felt his body connect with something hard and hurtful, then there was pain. He screamed out into the darkness as his vision clouded into darkness and his eyes stung with pain. His head was agony and he was definitely bleeding._

_"Stu'!" Victor screamed from nearby his voice was rough and breaking, cutting through the ringing in Stuart's ears. "I love you so much, please remember that." His voice withered into a whisper and stopped completely._

Shooting up with a gasp, Stuart cried out his brother's name into the dimness of his room. 

Dead. Victor was _dead_. His _brother_ was dead.

"Oh my god. Please don't be real, please don't be real." He choked out, as tears started to pour down his face, his throat raw and his breathing uneven and scattered. His head was throbbing and nothing was particularly clear. He stumbled over to the backpack and grabbed the bottle of pills swallowing three of them and hugging his legs to his chest as tears fell continuously. His blue hair fell in front of his eyes and everything seemed far to insane for it to be true.

"It's a dream, I know it is, he isn't dead, he wouldn't leave." Stuart whispered to himself, burying his head in his knees even more. 

Murdoc wouldn't have done that to him. He wasn't like that. He knew better. 

He didn't really register much after that, and continued to hunch up as small as he could, unsure of what was going on around him, but not really caring either just continuing to whisper to himself. He may have blacked out again but it all seemed the same until his head stopped hurting.

After a while he stumbled into the bathroom, flicking on the light and grimacing at the brightness. He stared at himself in the mirror once his eyes got used to the light change.

His hair was dishevelled and messy, his face cut and bruised, and his two front teeth nowhere to be seen. but what stood out most was his eyes, pitch black, with a glimmer due to the reflection of the light against them. 

He looked so strange and different, his face was puffy from crying, and unsurprisingly the bags under his eyes were still there and nearly as dark as his eyes themselves. 

His held himself up by the sink, just staring at himself, trying to judge how much damage had been done. He didn't know what day it was, or what time it was, what year or month wasn't in his head either.

Then everything clicked. He had bruises and jet black eyes, his face was cut up and everything hurt, not to mention he woke up in a hospital. 

His brother really was gone. 

The tears brimmed and fell again, but Stuart didn't even notice, and slugged downstairs, picking the landline off the stand and dialled in the familiar number he hadn't needed to call for years. 

It ringed a few times, before the automated message played an directed him to voicemail.

"H'lo mum, dad. you might want to get home soon. Vick's brown-bread and I dunno what to do. Love you..." He allowed his voice to trail off before hanging up, sending the phone clattering to the floor, the batteries rolling away as the back shattered off. He fell to his knees, choking out sobs and screaming, his lungs threatening to give up with the amount of pain in his chest.

If there were neighbours next door, the might have been concerned, as Stuart screamed Victor's name, Murdoc's name, yelling all the profanities he knew about the green bastard.

How _dare_ he not even let him know that his own fucking brother was dead?

Months passed, the days were all a blur, they mixed together, he kept studying,  worked on his exams, spoke at the funeral and cried himself to sleep most nights, barely sleeping anyway. His parents kept on with their schedule of not being home and didn't really show any emotion at all, he wondered if they were even real humans.

But what stood out the most is that Murdoc was nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware of the different things surrounding why 2-D's eyes are black. There was an animatic that said they'd been knocked out and on the wiki it says he has 8-ball fractures. 
> 
> I'm in the fracture camp because I'm pretty sure he can still see. So yeah, if you disagree that's fine but don't scream at me that I'm incorrect
> 
> (also I know that his hyphema happened in two incidents but shush its an AU I can do what I want!)  
> (also im sorry that was rude)


	3. Chapter 3

Stuart sat by himself in the graveyard, the sun was shining and the rest of the cemetery was empty. He hadn't been in a while, but that didn't really matter, who was there to care? 

His vision had been getting worse, he had gotten glasses that helped a little but his eyes hurt from time to time anyway. 

The gravestone wasn't anything elaborate, a simple grey marble with silver engraving in it. However reading over the words indented in the stone made everything spin. The world was spinning anyway, due to the amount of drugs in his system. He'd overdosed on his medication but it wasn't anything too extreme, just a little dizziness and confusion.

It'd been just over half a year since the crash, since Victor died, since Murdoc seemingly vanished off the face of the earth.

Stuart hadn't seen him around town, not in the shops, not by the clubs, and not even loitering around the sixth form building. If he was completely honest with himself, he kind of missed the older boy, he missed the banter but he supposed Murdoc didn't want anything to do with him now Victor wasn't around.

He hadn't said anything, he'd heard of people who go into a graveyard and talk to the person who's buried, but he didn't particularly see the point in that. He didn't really plan to come in the first place, he just wasn't too focused on the walk home from school and took a detour.

"Fancy seeing you here Stu-Pot." A familiar voice came from behind him. His head shot up and he stood up looking around to come face to face the green bastard.

His body filled with rage, and wrath over took his mind.

That. Fucking. Dickhead.

How dare he even _speak_ to Stuart after what he'd done. 

He didn't tell him what had happened, and left the younger boy to find out in a dream and question his entire fucking reality. He didn't even come to the funeral and wasn't around to comfort Stuart when the only person who ever did was gone.

Stuart lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and throwing punches. They gradually became weaker as he collapsed and broke down in tears, hiccupping out profanities and his head began to hurt even more.

Murdoc didn't retaliate, and allowed the younger boy to sob into his chest.

After enough Stuart came back around and his anger set in once more. "Y-You fucking bastard!" He screamed out, pushing away from Murdoc and standing up again, starting to pace as anxiety set in. "What gives you the right to come to my brother's bloody gravestone and act like you care! You weren't even at the sodding funeral!" He choked out as the tears continued to fall.

"I was you dullard. I left after your speech." The older boy replied, his voice gruff and emotionless just as it had been after the crash. " And he was my best friend, how do you think I feel."

Typical Murdoc, playing the guilt card. Stuart sucked at being angry, and Murdoc knew it fine rightly.

"Pretty rotten I imagine. But he was my brother and my only bloody friend besides you, if I could even fucking call you that, _tosser_." Stuart spat at him, trying once again to insult the older boy. He half expected Murdoc to punch him, he and Victor had gotten into some pretty serious rows before but to his surprise the older boy didn't respond.

"From where I'm standing I reckon you're dealing with it pretty well, y'know for the gormless bell-end you are." Murdoc replied, pushing himself off the ground. He was shorter than Stuart by a considerable margin, but hell if he wasn't far more intimidating than the blue haired boy could ever dream of being.

"Yeah well you don't care enough to see the lack of sleep I get and how many tears come out of these stupid black eyes that _you_ gave me." He shouted, not even caring about whether there were tears falling down his face anymore, not giving a shit about how childish or unfair he was being, he was upset and dammit he was entitles to a tantrum every once in a while. "You don't _see_ the lack of emotion my parents have, you don't _see_ how many pills I need. What happens behind closed doors doesn't seem to matter to you!  _Nothing_ seems to matter to you! You vanished square of the face of the earth when I needed you most!"

Murdoc stared at him, his hair in the way of his eyes a little, and a mixture of emotions burning in them that Stuart couldn't quite make out.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he rolled his eyes and sat down with a sigh, staring at the grave. "What d'you reckon he'd say if he were here, watching us argue like petty children." He asked, not to anyone in particular but Stuart supposed he should answer, seeing as it would be pretty terrifying if anybody else did.

The blue heard boy furrowed his brow, sitting down beside the green boy. "He wouldn't say anythin', he'd probably just slap us both upside the head for being twats." He replied and Murdoc laughed, shaking his head.

The sense of ache came over Stuart again and his head was still pounding. "Why hasn't it got any easier?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly, as he stared at the ground playing with his shoelaces.

"Hm?"

"Everybody said it would stop hurting, that things would get better, that I'd stop missing him, but even talking about him gets me choked up."  

Murdoc sighed, twirling the chain of his necklace around his fingers. "They're full of shit, Dents. It won't get easier, it won't stop hurting, and no matter how hard you try, it will always hurt more than life itself. What changes is you, you learn to cope, you learn to see the bright side of things, you learn to be happy all the time because you know what it's life to be sad."

"Where the hell is the bright side then? Because I'm looking everywhere and all there is, is darkness." Stuart replied, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Maybe that's because your eyes are filled with blood." Murdoc laughed, and Stuart looked confused, filled with blood? Since when? 

"What?" 

"That's why they're black you bloody dullard." The older boy shook his head, and Stuart rolled his eyes, looking away trying to find something else to look at so he wasn't focusing on Murdoc's face.

"Can you at least answer me seriously?"

"Vick... Him being gone, it's better than him having no legs and not having independence. Would you honestly want him to be paralysed and not have a life anymore?" Murdoc replied, and that was probably the most serious thing Stuart had ever heard him say. Murdoc treated life as a joke, he didn't see the point in being serious or acting grown up, and half the time his advice wasn't serious, or he was lying to get a laugh.

"Guess not. I can't remember all what happened, everything went black and all there was, was just pain." Stuarts voice was quiet. "He spoke to me, told me he loved me, I couldn't get the words out to reply." He hiccupped as the tears continued.

To his surprise, an arm went around his shoulders, and Murdoc pulled him to his side, allowing the younger boy to lean into him. "He knows, Bluebird, he knows." That's all he said, but those words were the closest thing Murdoc had ever done to sympathy. They sat like that, for god knows how long, not saying a word to each other. Stuart sniffled, and Murdoc rubbed the small of his back, in attempt to keep his emotions at bay. 

It began to get dark, and with out a word, Murdoc stood up, ruffling Stuarts hair, and walking out of the graveyard, his worn out boots clunking with each step. 

The blue haired boy, got up a few moments later, picking his schoolbag up and slinging the messenger bag over his shoulder before commencing the walk home. He hummed softly to himself, a familiar song, far too happy of a tune for the mood he was in. 

He could remember Victor and Murdoc wailing out the lyrics, the first time either of them had drank, while Stuart laughed his ass off as the older two stumbled around their living room. Victor used to sing, not very well but he did, it calmed Stuart down as a kid, when he would get a migraine or a panic attack. Victor would sing and once Stuart's breathing had come back to normality, he would sing along with him. 

A small smile passed his face as he opened the door to his house, skipping over eating anything and heading to bed. As he lay there, staring at his ceiling he felt the tears run down his face for the umpteenth time.

_"In the middle of the night, in the middle of the night I call your name. Oh Victor..."_


	4. Chapter 4

Stuart had swallowed three paracetamol the next morning, along with his prescribed medication, his head continued to hurt during the day, and he took at least five more painkillers throughout. Noodle was becoming concerned about the increasing bags under his eyes, and how the outer rims were always red from crying, she'd asked him about it but Stuart told her he had allergies. Her language guide, Russel, noticed too, and didn't buy his lies but avoided mentioning it in case it was a sensitive subject.

The blue haired boy hadn't told anybody about his brother, teachers sometimes asked how Victor was doing in his new school, and all he could do was smile and nod, offering an "Okay" in response before sprinting from the classroom as his anxiety set in. He wasn't a good liar, and unlike Noodle who couldn't tell, and Russel who didn't want to bring up bad memories, he knew for a fact his teachers would get invasive about everything he didn't want.

People got used to his black eyes, just as they got used to his bright blue hair when that event went down. Nobody seemed to question it, and his parents had probably come up with an excuse for it and explained it to the school.

He got picked on just as he always had, whether they made fun of his missing teeth, or his hyphema, or his hair just as they had before, they poked fun. 

Today however they went a little further than normal. 

It started with a light shove in the morning, his books slapped out of his grasp after lunch, and the day ended with him getting punched so hard his entire body slammed into his locker door, any harder and he would have been knocked out but luckily he was able to stumble out of the building drowsily. He held himself up on the school gates, staring at the ground as his vision clouded and swarmed with stars. 

His head was pounding, and all the painkillers he kept in his blazer pockets were done, he'd taken them all during the day. 

"You gonna start walking, Face-Ache? Or is the ground really that interesting?" A familiar voice sounding from his side. What the fuck was Murdoc doing outside his school? 

Stuart looked up, and sure enough the blurry green figure of the older boy stood, leaning against the metal frame of the gates. There was a notable change his his posture as he saw the state of the younger boys face.

There was a dark purple bruise forming on his jaw, his lip was busted and bleeding along with several other cuts on his face, his hair was dishevelled and his back was agony from being struck against the cold metal of the locker units. 

"Who did this to you, Bluebird?" He asked. 

"Fell down some stairs." Stuart managed to choke out, and immediately regretted it as he started coughing which somehow made him hurt even more.

Murdoc rolled his eyes, taking the younger boy's bag off him. "Your school only has one floor, you dullard. I'll give you another chance to tell me before I leave you here for dead." He replied, allowing the bluenette to use him as a means of support as they headed to his house.

"Bullies." A simple one word sentence, but that was all Murdoc really needed to know. There were dumb fucking kids in the eldest year of that school, they'd originally been in the older boys own class but got held back because they were actual dunces. He knew them well, considering his nose would never be the same shape again because of them. 

They managed to get home, well, Murdoc managed to carry Stuart home, and get him set up on the sofa, before locating a first aid kit. Stuart had downed more if his prescribed medication telling Murdoc he needed it (he didn't but what was the harm?) and took a few extra painkillers for good measure. He was propped up with pillows to ease the pain on his back, and Murdoc sat on the coffee table as he dabbed the cuts with antiseptic. The younger boy hissed at the pain, flinching away as it stung the cuts.

Murdoc sighed, cupping the back of the younger boys head to hold him in place as he continued to clean the gashes. "Listen Two Dents, I know its hurting, but you would most _definitely_ prefer this than an infection." It was difficult to tell but Murdoc could have sworn he saw Stuart roll his eyes. He was holding a bag of ice wrapped in a tea-towel to his jaw.

"Why d'you call me that?" The younger boy asked, remembering when he'd called him that back in the hospital ages ago, odd he'd remember that but not much else, and the shortened version "Dents" that he'd used in the graveyard yesterday.

"Hm?"

"Dents?" His voice was muffled, slurred, due to the cold numbing the skin around his mouth.

Murdoc stared at him, tempted to ignore the question but decided the blue haired boy had right to know. "You have _two_ black eyes, _two_ missing teeth and _two_ sets of stitches, either side of your head." He packed the first aid kit up, and leaned back to look at his handy work. "If it bothers you that much, I won't call you it anymore." 

"I don' mind, jus' confused is all." The blue haired boy replied, offering a small smile, displaying his lack of front teeth. 

"Have I mentioned how metal you look, with your missing teeth and coloured hair an' all." Murdoc offered, continuing to study Stuarts features, Stuart didn't seem to notice the older boy staring at him, or he was too drugged up to care. 

He looked like a busted up alien, almost angelic in the way he was spaced out. His eyes were dark voids, and besides all the cuts and the bright purple mark adorning his chin, they contrasted his pale skin. Blue hair suited him more than the mousy brown it had been before his accident. Murdoc couldn't deny his admiration for the younger boy, he always thought the younger boy was pretty, but had never mentioned it seeing as Stuart was probably just as straight as everybody thought Murdoc himself was. 

"Mudz, I'm tired." Stuart broke the silence, he wasn't lying, he was pretty drowsy, and he felt tipsy, buzzing, due to the overdose of his meds.

Murdoc snapped to attention. "I don't think it's safe for you to sleep Dents, some fucked up malarkey could happen if you have a concussion, you have to wait at least half an hour before you can." He spoke, softer than usual, as he noticed how dazed the younger boy seemed.

The bluenette groaned. "How d'you suppose I stay awake?" He asked.

Murdoc shrugged, unsure. "I dunno, what's something you like to do? And if you say wank, I will slap you." Stuart laughed and shook his head, wincing after he did so as his vision blurred for a moment. 

"Nah, uhm... I sing sometimes, that's fun." He said, remembering how he'd sung quietly until he drifted off yesterday. 

"Alright, go on then songbird." Murdoc said, propping his head up on his fists, intrigued, he'd never really heard the younger boy sing, other than fuzzy memories he had when he was sloshed and the younger boy half sung, half shouted John Lennon lyrics.

The quiet tune of Daydream Believer flowed from Stuarts mouth without any effort, the words slightly slurred and incorrect in places but beautiful nonetheless, his voice was impressive, soft and husky, unlike when he spoke. He didn't seem phased that Murdoc was watching him, tapping his foot along to the tune, humming quietly along with him as he chorused the melody.

The minutes passed quickly enough, as Murdoc listened to Stuart recite the lyrics to familiar tunes, and occasionally suggesting a well known number, leaving out his favourite metal tunes, not wanting to pressure the younger boy and lead to him hurting himself.

Half an hour went soon enough, and before he knew it, Stuart was being hoisted up and supported by the older boy, as they made their way up the stairs. After a few hit and misses, Murdoc managed to get Stuart laid down without pain. 

"Get some rest Bluebird, I'll wait at the gates tomorrow yeah?" He said, hoping Stuart was able to register what he said, after a few seconds and no sign of a response, the older boy made his way out of his room.

"I like that one, it's nice." Stuart spoke softly, in his own drowsiness, probably unaware that he was speaking at all. 

Murdoc rolled his eyes, a smile on his face even if he wouldn't like to admit it. "Alright, Two Dents."


	5. Chapter 5

School the next day was agony, he'd gone through at least an entire packet of paracetamol, and none of the pain was leaving. He managed to struggle through his classes, in a half dream daze, none of his teachers noticed him staring out the window, not paying attention to a word that left their mouths. 

He hadn't bothered to cover up the bruises, he was clumsy enough that people wouldn't suspect anything. Teachers didn't bat an eye as he walked past them, or stared into space in their classes. 

if he was completely honest he felt just as useless and pathetic as they told him he was, crumpled and worthless just as the slurs that had left their mouth before they slammed him against the metal and left him for dead.

He knew there was no hiding it from Russel and that he wouldn't buy his bullshit but he could only hope that he'd hold his tongue and not bring it up.

Noodle however did not have that kind of social etiquette, and the moment he sat down in English she was immediately curious. 

"What happen to your purple?" She asked, with her signature broken English that Stuart had come to like. She was pointing at his face and he let out a sigh, forcing a smile, and shrugging.

"Fell down some stairs." He said, reusing his excuse from yesterday, knowing that she, unlike Murdoc, would believe it. Russel stared at him, solid white eyes piercing into him, just as his own black ones did. He shook his head, and gave Stuart a knowing look before getting back to his work. 

Halfway through the lesson, noodle handed him a small piece of paper with something scribbled on it, the handwriting clearly not hers. 

_You can lie to her but not to me. I'll see you at the library after this class is over - Russ_

The blue haired boy took a sharp breath in, almost cursing out loud. He didn't want to have to talk, he didn't want to have to explain anything to anyone. Having Murdoc know was almost too much and he was there when it happened. Russel would ask about the redness of his eyes and he'd have to explain about Victor too and that was another endeavour in itself.

Noticing his breath becoming shallower as his pace quickened, and a feeling of sickness rose in his stomach, he put his hand up to get the teachers attention. She looked over at him with a pained expression on her face, almost as if she didn't want him to exist, and gestured for him to speak.

"I-I have to go to th' toilet." He stammered out and she rolled her eyes.

"You're old enough to know that you can't go in the middle of class, Mr Pot." She replied, sternly, ignoring how pale he had turned.

"W-Well I hope you enjoy scrubbing sick off your c-carpet Miss." He retorted as he tried to keep it down, and the class stared at him in shock as the words left his mouth.

She gave an annoyed huff. "Fine then get out." She barked, and he scrambled up out of his seat, heading for the door as the feeling of ill and dread began to build up inside him.

Just managing to make it to the bathroom when he wretched, and the contents of his stomach left his mouth, bile and acid burning the back of his throat on the way up as he coughed into the toilet bowl, hot tears spilling down his face and pained groans escaping his lips. He shook as he sat there, before managing to summon the strength to stand up, wiping his mouth with a paper towel and heading back to class.

"Well?" The teacher asked looking at him expectantly?

"Well?" Stuart parroted back to her. "Do you really want a status update on the contents of my stomach leaving my mouth? Or do you want to shut up and let me go the fuck home?" He replied, using her same tone of voice, and grabbing his bag. 

She looked furious but he couldn't care less. 

"You can't avoid it forever Stu'" Russel said quietly and he shook his head in response before leaving the classroom. Heading to the reception and tell the secretary he was going home.

He didn't go home, and instead headed to the graveyard, his Walkman playing some outdated blues track, and his head splitting like it never had before.

That was as daring as Stuart had ever been with a teacher. Victor always gave them a piece of his mind and Murdoc had a mouth on him like nobody had heard before. But Stuart was the one who coloured in the lines, did what he was told when he was told to and kept his thoughts to himself.

Surprisingly, Murdoc was sat at the grave, staring at it like Stuart himself had done nights before. He gave the older boy a small smile when he sat down, taking his bag off his shoulder and resting beside him. 

"Why're you out so early?" He asked.

"Sick." 

Murdoc leant back on his hands, giving the older boy a glance, noticing the bruises on blatant display. "Ah, makes sense. How's your face?" 

"Painful."

"Understandable. What'd the dickfucks do today?" He gave the younger boy a look of concern and he shrugged in response.

"Nothing."

"Are you just gonna give me one word answers?"

"Yep." Stuart sighed, holding back a grin as he noticed the look of infuriation on Murdoc's face.

"Fuck off."

"Nope." He laughed as the older boy elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't- No- I'll throw up on you if you don't quit it!" He shouted through his laughter and the green boy retracted, shaking his head.

"What kind of wally laughs his head off in a graveyard?" 

"The kind that's had a packet of paracetamol and got the fuck beat out of him yesterday." Stuart replied solemnly and Murdoc rolled his eyes, sighing and standing up, offering Stuart a hand.

"Where're we going?" The blue haired boy asked, taking the older boys hand and standing up.

"I'm walking you home, so you don't die trying to get back on your own." He replied.

"I am perfectly capable of being alone." Stuart declared, folding his arms.

Murdoc rolled his eyes, picking the younger boy's school-bag off the ground and slinging it over his shoulder. "Oh really, last time you were alone, you were tthe guy who, and I quote, 'got the fuck beat out of him.'" He said and Stuart huffed out a breath of annoyance.

"Fine.." He spoke, pouting like a small child, and Murdoc shook his head.

"'Atta boy."

"Fuck you."


	6. Chapter 6

Stuart didn't go in to school the next day, or the day after that, by then it was the weekend and he could put Russel's potential interrogation to the pack of his mind and hide from the world. He didn't bother with eating and tended to just sleep the headache and heartache away. 

He realised that he was probably making himself more sick but he didn't give a shit, the longer he could stay away from school, the bitchy teachers, the asshole's who kick his ass on the daily, Noodle and her curiosities, but he was mostly staying away to avoid questions.

School work would be piling _up_ and _up_ and _up_ but without Victor, his life wasn't going anywhere special. Victor was the only one who made sure he was doing his work, made sure he was trying, made sure he was getting somewhere. So without him, everything was pointless, and no one could convince him to try anymore. Teachers had been getting worried about his slipping grades, he wasn't the brightest anyway, but he'd been getting better, and now everything was falling away from his grasp and he simply did not care.

Each exam a new arrangement of the same query's, each inquiry about his grades the same shit, the same concerned looks and fake pitying expressions. The same _questions._

Stuart hated questions. He couldn't find the words when put on the spot, tending to shrug or say he didn't know even if he did. The anxiety would get to him, so scared of messing up or breaking down, that he would say nothing, choosing to run, or stand stark like a deer in the headlights.

He'd been getting too many questions lately.

 _How's Victor?_ Dead

 _How are your parents?_ Practically non-existent.

 _How are you?_ Tired of your bullshit.

But one he didn't get asked by everyone else, was one he was asked by Murdoc.

"Are you okay?"

Murdoc didn't care, he could read people well enough and never had the need to ask. He didn't have many friends either, so that may have also been a reason why. As long as Stuart or Vick wasn't on the verge of death, he didn't _need_ to care, he already had enough to worry about.

So getting asked that question, by _him_ of all people was a new experience.

"Stu'? You in there?" The older boy was staring at him from across the kitchen table, miss-matched eyes burning into him as he stared back with his own empty black ones. Murdoc had came over and created an intervention to the way Stuart was treating himself, forcing him to eat now that his ribs were clearly visible when his shirt rode up. He'd noticed how quiet the younger boy was, how easily he drifted away. He knew Stuart had always been a day-dreamer, lost in his own worlds, but it was never so bad that he completely _ignored_ those beside him.

Stuart clicked back into reality once more, tilting his head to the side. "Huh?"

" _Are you okay?_ " Murdoc repeated. It unlike ' _How are you?'_ was not a stupid question, because it was clear to see what his answer would be to that one, after the umpteenth time of answering it, one of many, all synonymous to one another and not one of them positive. But the question the older boy had proposed was simpler, less options to answer with, a simple yes or no, but for the younger boy it was a little more difficult.

"I don't think so." He replied, after a moment of thought, staring down at the bowl of soup in front of him, dripping it off the spoon and back into the bowl watching it as the patterns in the liquid disappeared. By 'forcing' Murdoc meant making him food seeing as he wouldn't do it for himself.

"Still mourning?" The older boy asked, trying to find some emotion in the bluenettes face, but the younger boy looked down before he could recognise any.

The images from his nightmares kept flashing in his mind, every time he closed his eyes, the worry and stress about life without his brother had been building up, was that mourning? He wasn't sure... He didn't know how his parents did it, he'd give his right arm and leg to be able to ignore everything like they did. They didn't care, and rather than before when he hated them for it, he was now more envious than he'd ever been of anything before.

He missed Victor, and would sell his soul to Satan if it meant he could see him again, was that mourning? He still wasn't sure.

"Stuart, buddy, c'mon." Murdoc sighed and smiled half-heartedly, pushing the bowl closer.

"I dunno." his voice was soft, cracking, and he placed the spoon in his mouth half-heartedly, before placing it back in the bowl and sighing, pushing it away, as a wave of nausea hit him. "I just want to go back to sleep. I-I can't do this- I-I can't..." Tears began to fall down his cheeks, choked, broken sobs escaping his lips, before his vision started to blur and everything went fuzzy.

The muffled cries of Murdoc rang throughout his head, before there was a bang and even more darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly shorter chapter than usual but I'll be getting somewhere that isn't angst soon, don't worry

**Author's Note:**

> yeah I know 2-D doesn't have a brother but I made one up for this story line so just pretend. it's an alternate universe anyway so sssshhh


End file.
